Territory Dispute
by CarlieD
Summary: The team is shocked when they walk in one day to find Kate sitting at Ziva’s desk as though nothing had ever happened. What has happened, who is the person they buried three years ago, and will Kate and Ziva ever learn to work together when they both feel
1. Prologue

**TERRITORY DISPUTE**

_The product of a few too many views of "Who's That Girl?" Tony-Kate-Ziva music vids on YouTube. The team is shocked when they walk in one day to find Kate sitting at Ziva's desk as though nothing had ever happened. What has happened, who is the person they buried three years ago, and will Kate and Ziva ever learn to work together when they both feel entitled to the same place?_

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the lyrics or the song or the characters of NCIS.

LYRICS: _Who's That Girl?_, Hilary Duff

* * *

**_Prologue – Who's That Girl?_**

_Who's that girl?  
Where's she from?  
No she can't be the one  
That you want  
That has stolen my world  
It's not real, it's not right  
It's my day, it's my night  
By the way  
Who's that girl living my life?  
Living my life_

Agent Caitlin Todd couldn't stop the grin from spreading over her face as she slipped into NCIS early that morning. It had been three years, one of the longest operations she had ever done, and she was finally back where she belonged. Maybe she would oil Tony's chair so that it slid right out from under him when he arrived. She had to do something to show them that she was back.

The Secret Service would have called ahead to the girl who had been playing her at NCIS, warned her not to come. So her desk would be nice and empty – probably nothing like what she had left it in, but she could deal with that. Oh, today was going to be her day…

* * *

She got up to the team's bullpen, looking around fondly at the abandoned desks. Then she slid into her chair – they had changed chairs, apparently, she'd need to get used to this one again – and opened the drawer to pull out the open cases file.

The files weren't there. Sighing, Kate closed the drawer again and began searching. Evidently the girl had changed everything around. She would have to put everything in order again.

Finally, she located them and pulled them out. Opening the file, she did a double-take at the name on the file: _Officer Ziva David #N94063_. An NCIS employee ID, not hers, and who the hell was Ziva? Was she in the wrong bullpen? Yeah, that was it, she was in the wrong bullpen.

Wait a second – her keys had opened the locked drawers. This _had_ to be her desk. What the hell was going on?

"Excuse me?" came a woman's sharp voice from in front of her. "What are you doing?" The file was yanked from her hand immediately. "That would be classified information on a federal investigation."

"I'm sorry, this is _my_ desk, lady," Kate replied, looking up. Her confronter was young, probably her age or a little younger, dark-haired, had a slightly Middle-Eastern look about her. She dangled the keys in front of her face. "My keys, my drawers, my desk."

"That is _my _desk," the young woman replied tersely. Almost as soon as she said that, Kate could hear Tony's voice crowing from the elevator.

"_Yes_! First one here today!"

"Not quite, Tony," both women called at once.

"I don't _count_ you, Ziva, you're always here at 7," Tony said with a grin as he turned the corner and tossed a wrapped breakfast of some kind at her. Then his grin faded. "What's going on?"

"Who the hell is _she_?" Kate and Ziva both exclaimed in unison.


	2. Kate and Ziva

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of NCIS or the song "Who's That Girl?" by Hilary Duff.

* * *

_**Chapter 1: Kate and Ziva**_

_Seems like everything's the same around me  
When I look again and everything has changed  
I'm not dreaming so I don't know why  
I don't know why  
I don't know why  
She's everywhere I wanna be_

"What the hell?" Tony said in stupefaction, staring at the two women.

"Tony!" Kate exclaimed indignantly. "Who the hell is she and what is she doing in my desk?"

"What the _hell_?"

"Tony!" Ziva snapped. "What is going on?"

"What's all this shouting?" came a woman's voice from the stairwell. "Tony, Ziva, really, it's 0700."

Kate looked up to see a slender red-haired woman in a suit set standing over them, suspicion in her eyes as she looked at Kate.

"Um, I think there's a problem, director," Tony said slowly.

* * *

"What are you _talking_ about?" Kate demanded as Tony was hauling her off to a holding room. "_Hello_, Tony, it's me, it's Kate."

"I would shut up until you know who you're talking to, lady," Tony replied harshly, yanking open the door to an interrogation room.

"Tony, don't you even recognize me?" Kate asked frantically. "Come on, I haven't changed _that_ much!"

* * *

Kate knuckled her forehead nervously as she checked her watch again. Three hours. Three hours she had been in here, and not so much as a visit from McGee.

She jumped when the door opened and said, "Finally! Guys, why am I being treated like a suspect?"

"Because you broke into a federal building, broke into a federal officer's files and are attempting to impersonate a federal agent," Ziva replied, closing the door and sitting down across the table from her. "I'd say you're already looking at a good ten years in prison, Miss…"

"Agent," Kate corrected tensely. "Agent Caitlin Todd, NCIS." She narrowed her eyes when Ziva shook her head and chuckled lowly. "What? What is funny, Agent…"

"Officer," Ziva corrected calmly. "Officer Ziva David."

"_Officer_," Kate said with exaggerated patience. "What is so funny?"

"That you claim to be Agent Todd," Ziva replied, twirling the remote for the plasma in her fingers deftly, "when everybody at NCIS knows that Caitlin Todd is in Virginia." As she hit the power button, she added, "In the Olwood Cemetery in Alexandria, to be precise. For three years."

Kate was shocked to see her own face show up on the plasma, eyes closed and a perfect, round bullet-hole in her forehead as she was on the autopsy slab.

"So you see, _miss_, it is impossible for you to be Agent Todd," Ziva said calmly, getting up and turning off the plasma. "Three different agents saw Kate die."

"Wait!" Kate said desperately, realizing now what a predicament she was in. The girl who had been playing her had died in the line of duty. Nobody had been informed of the switch. Not Gibbs, not her family, not anybody outside of the director. As far as everybody knew, Kate Todd _was_ dead. "Can I get a phone call?"

"I hope it is to a lawyer," Ziva replied as she tossed a cell phone at her.

"No, to somebody who can clear all of this up in no time," Kate muttered, dialling in her head of operations at Secret Service.

Ziva raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Kate wanted to knock that cool collection out of her.

_"Derek Wilchowy."_

Kate returned her thoughts to the subject at hand. "Derek, it's Kate Todd."

_"Ah, yes, how is life at NCIS?"_

"A little complicated. Derek, I need you to come down and straighten out a misunderstanding. NCIS seems to have changed directors in the last three years and the new one doesn't have any idea of the op."

_"Well, Tessa should be able to clear everything up. Where's Tessa?"_

Kate sighed. "She's dead, Derek. She's been dead almost as long as the op has been going." She glared at Ziva when the young Israeli waved her hand in a 'hurry up' gesture. "I'm being held in an interrogation room until everything clears. Can you just come down and vouch for me so I can get on with my life?"

_"I'm on my way, Kate, just hang tight."_

Kate hung up and threw the phone back to Ziva. "There."

* * *

"How do we determine if it's true?" the red-haired director asked Abby as the two entered the interrogation room.

"Well, it's pointless to run a DNA test, because identical people always have identical DNA," Abby said. "Scientifically, there's nothing I can do, director."

"But people have different life experiences, Abby," Kate pointed out. "I have a tattoo. Tessa didn't."

"Did Ducky mention a tattoo in the autopsy report?" the director asked.

"I don't think so, but he doesn't usually unless they're relevant to the case, like in a John Doe or something," Abby replied.

The director's cell phone went off just then, and she excused herself. "Jen Shepard here." She listened for a moment. "No, Jethro, I'm a little occupied with this Agent Todd mix-up. What about the Ranier case?" She listened a little longer. "Well, send Tony and Ziva undercover again, you and McGee go with them as backup. I'll contact the FBI, let them know." She hung up and then answered a second call. "Jen Shepard. Yes, I'm the director. Why, yes, I _do_ have the woman claiming to be Caitlin Todd here."

* * *

"So, _Sophie_, undercover again," Tony was saying in an undertone to Ziva as he finished buttoning a dress shirt. "Think we'll get a presidential suite again?"

Ziva laughed slightly, dressed in an elegant wine red dress that Kate would've killed to look halfway decent in. "_Jean-Paul_, you have a little too much fun on these missions." She tapped his cheek lightly and pulled on a coat.

"What can I say, the TV had over 200 channels, the champagne wasn't bad, I kind of liked the gourmet dining…" he paused and then held out a gallant arm. "Madame?"

"_Merci_," she replied with a smile, taking the arm. "If you are lucky, perhaps we will be booked the suite again."

"Not to mention the view wasn't bad." He yelped when she slapped him across the back of the head, though she had a smile while she did it. "Wouldn't mind that view again."

"Oh, now you are really dreaming," Ziva breathed to him, just as Kate interrupted.

"All right, what's going on?"

"Ah, yes, Agent Todd, back from the dead," Gibbs said sarcastically.

"Old case from a few years ago," McGee explained. "We'll fill you in later."

"We'll have the feed going into MTAC, director," Gibbs said to the director as she, Abby and Ducky appeared amongst the group. "Ducky, Abby, anything to add?"

"Oh, um, don't get caught and tortured this time," Abby said immediately.

"We weren't tortured," Tony said defensively.

"He may have been hit several times but he wasn't tortured," Ziva agreed. "And he bore it graciously," she added, patting his cheek affectionately.

"Remember that these people don't know you're supposed to be dead," Ducky spoke up. "They _do_, however, know that Sophie Ranier was pregnant three years ago."

"And will be expecting mention of a small child. Thank you, Ducky," Ziva said.

"Do we actually have any of that recorded somewhere?" Tony asked.

"Thank Abby and McGee for that," Gibbs said, tossing each of them a large manila envelope. "Pictures, birth certificates, medical cards, other assorted bits and pieces you normally find with parents of a 3-year-old."

"Excellent," Ziva said, skimming through it.

"Lee-ah," Tony mused, looking at the birth certificate.

"Lay-ah, Tony, learn your French," Ziva corrected.

"All right, let's head out, 'Jean-Paul' and 'Sophie' have a dinner to get to," Gibbs said, holstering his gun. "McGee, with me. You get to be a waiter again. Abby, Ducky, back to your labs."

"I'll be watching in MTAC," the director said, heading back upstairs.

"Uh, Gibbs, what about me?" Kate spoke up, dashing after him when the team entered the elevator.

"What about you, Agent Todd?" Gibbs asked, holding the elevator door open while he looked at her impassively. "You don't have any background on this case. You're not coming."

"Excuse me?" Kate demanded indignantly.

"Out, Todd," Gibbs ordered. Sighing, Kate backed out of the elevator.

"I guess I'll go see if Abby wants any help in her lab."

"And stay out of my desk!" Ziva called warningly as the doors closed on the new team.

* * *

Kate sighed and sat down in the chair behind her desk. She didn't care what that Ziva chick said, it was _her_ desk.

She pulled out every drawer, every file, every pen and paperclip and began to put it back together _her_ way. Ziva had torn the desk apart in the last three years; it took her nearly four hours to sort everything out again.

Finally, it was all back to the way it was supposed to be. Kate gathered up all of Ziva's papers and personal effects, walked down to the empty desk at the edge of the bullpen and dumped them there unceremoniously.

"Take that, Officer David," she muttered. She returned to _her_ desk and booted up the computer, beginning the long process of copying all of Ziva's files to a separate disk and then deleting them from the computer. Once finished, approximately two hours later, she dropped the disk on top of the pile of things on the 'outcast' desk. She retrieved all of her own files from the filing cabinet between her desk and Tony's, putting them back in place.

Kate couldn't resist a smirk from crossing her face as she headed down to Abby's lab. That would teach Officer David.

* * *

"Oh, hi," Abby said distractedly as she looked at Kate briefly. "What do you want?"

"Wow, Abby, that was cold," Kate said with a slight laugh. "I was just coming to see if you wanted any help at all, or any company… I, um, I seem to have walked into an open case and Gibbs won't let me come."

"Yeah, well, I'm kind of busy right now, Kate, so maybe later, okay?" Abby said, pushing her chair across the lab to another computer, where a video feed was coming in. Undaunted, Kate came over with Abby and looked at the screen.

"What's the feed from?"

"Tony and Ziva's mission," Abby answered. "Listen, Kate, I really am in the middle of something. Go ask the director what to do."

Kate sighed and reluctantly exited, just as Abby was chirping something indistinct to Tony and Ziva through the speakerphone. There was a laugh from Tony and a reply from Ziva. She had never felt so useless and stupid and left out in her life.

* * *

"Agent Todd," the director greeted quietly as Kate came into MTAC. "Why are you still here?"

"I've been left behind, Director, I was hoping for an assignment," Kate replied. "Anything that I can do to aid the mission?"

"No, Agent Todd, that's perfectly fine," the director replied briefly. "Why don't you go home? You can start catching up on the open cases with the team tomorrow."

* * *

Kate sighed as she answered the phone again. So far her parents had called, Christina, Matthew and Michael. It was about the right time for Craig to be calling. "Hello?"

_"Katie, you are coming back to Virginia, and you are going to explain what the hell is going on!"_

"Nice to talk to you too, Craig," Kate said patiently, leaning back on the headboard of her hotel room bed. Her second line beeped. "Sorry, Craig, I've got to go. Kate."

_"So help me, Agent Todd, if you _ever_ try to disrupt my mission again…"_ Gibbs threatened.

"What?" Kate demanded. "What did I do? I haven't been able to do _anything_ since I got back, Gibbs!"

_"You moved Ziva's files, Kate!"_ Gibbs roared. _"We needed something out of that and Abby wasted an hour trying to find out where they'd gone! You nearly got Tony and Ziva killed because of that!"_

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?" Kate exclaimed. "It's not like anybody clued in me on the case!"

_"I want you at NCIS and ready to work at 0700! Do I make myself clear?"_

"Crystal."

* * *

Kate got out of the elevator at 0645, feeling pretty confident that she had arrived first. But when she arrived at the bullpen, there sat Ziva, in jeans and an NCIS sweatshirt, hair damp and brushed back, reading a magazine that looked as though it might have been filched from Tony's desk and eating an apple… in Kate's desk.

"When did _you_ get here?" Kate asked. "And get out of my desk."

"It is _my_ desk, Agent Todd," Ziva replied calmly, not even looking up from her magazine, "and _I_ never left. Tony and I managed to escape at 0300. _Your_ things are on _your_ desk, down there." She gestured vaguely towards the outcast desk.

"I feel like a kindergarten teacher," Gibbs muttered as he entered with Tony, who was also in jeans and an NCIS sweatshirt. "All right, Officer David, Agent Todd, front and centre!" he barked, making visions of Marines charge through Kate's mind.

"Oooh, this ought to be good," Tony muttered to McGee as the probie entered.

"Any sign of a fight yet?" McGee asked, passing a breakfast sandwich and coffee to Tony.

"Oh, it's coming…"

"Throwdown: Secret Service vs. Mossad…"

"I'm not sure who I'd bet on…" Both young men shut up when Gibbs sent them the evil eye.

"Like it or not, the both of you are members of this team," Gibbs said sternly, pacing in front of both Ziva and Kate.

"But Gibbs –" both women exclaimed in unison.

"An NCIS team only has four agents!" Kate protested. Was that a flash of panic she saw in Ziva's eyes?

"I can make exceptions," Gibbs growled. "You will work together, you will not attempt to sabotage each other, you will act your age. That is an order!"

"So who gets the desk?" Kate asked impatiently; Ziva still seemed to be thinking of something else.

* * *

"Gibbs, I can't work like this!" Kate complained, irritably digging an elbow into Ziva's side. "Gibbs!"

"Don't make me put the both of you in time-out," Gibbs warned as Ziva made a move as though to smack Kate.

"Oh, please do, boss," Tony said from his desk, grinning when Ziva hurled a stapler at him. "Temper, temper, Ziva."

"Tony, shut up before _I_ start throwing things at you," Kate growled. "God, can you take _up_ any more space?" she demanded to Ziva.

"I could, but you are in the way," Ziva replied coolly. "McGee, do you have the –" Her email pinged. "Thank you."

"Why wouldn't you just go and get the file from him, Officer David?" Kate asked pointedly.

"Because you are blocking my path, Agent Todd, and if I get up, you will take my spot."

"All right, that does it. Kate, Ziva, with me," Gibbs said in disgust, getting up from his desk. "Wait. You, your gun," he said to Kate, holding out his hand. Sighing, Kate handed over her gun. He dumped it in a drawer and then held out his hand to Ziva. Muttering in Hebrew under her breath, Ziva handed him her gun. He put it in the drawer along with Kate's and then held out his hand again. "The backups and the knife too."

Ziva glowered at him and dumped the other two guns and her knife into his hand.

* * *

"Hey! Hey!" both women exclaimed as Gibbs shut the door to the interrogation room and locked it from the outside.

"You can't do this, Gibbs!" Kate shouted.

"You could have at _least_ left me my knife, Gibbs!" Ziva yelled.

"God, what kind of homicidal maniac _are _you, that you carry three guns and a knife on your person?!" Kate demanded, stalking over to one corner. "How do you get away with it at NCIS, any way?"

"That is standard Mossad carrying procedure, for your information, Agent Todd," Ziva replied curtly.

* * *

Hours passed. "When do you think he'll let us out?" Kate asked dully, sitting on the floor in her corner.

"When he is convinced we have either killed each other or come to some sort of truce," Ziva replied bluntly.

"How about you stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours?" Kate asked.

"Sounds good to me," Ziva answered. "I get the desk."

"I get the parking space."

"I get to drive."

"I do photos and sketches."

"I get the top filing drawer."

"I get the second."

"You will have to fight Tony for it. You can have the hat."

"I'd rather have the jacket."

"You get the hat. I keep the jacket."


	3. A Shift in Dynamics

DISCLAIMER : I don't own any of NCIS.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just to warn you, I've hit a roadblock with this story. Don't be dismayed if it's a long time between updates, there's other plot bunnies I've indulged in (I never should've put this up with Honey and Wine still in progress, but there you are...) whilst I attempt to retrieve the rapidly escaping plotline.

_**

* * *

**_

Chapter 2: A Shift in Dynamics

"God, can she _be_ any more annoying?" Kate groaned to herself as she ducked into a deserted hallway. It had been an overall irritating morning, with Ziva and Tony bantering back and forth with what McGee had apparently dubbed 'UST'. Kate had pointed out that he was missing a letter.

Their truce hadn't been working very well. Kate and Ziva were constantly 'invading' the other's 'territory', sniping at each other and not following their custody arrangements at all. Ziva had parked in Kate's space this morning, since Kate had taken the desk yesterday. Gibbs' hand kept hovering threateningly by their heads, so often that Ducky had inquired worriedly if his muscles had seized up.

Tony and McGee had ceased to find Kate and Ziva's bickering funny after the first week. McGee seemed too nervous to actually speak either woman's name to the other for fear of retribution. Tony, on the other hand, had no qualms about breaking up (or inciting) fights with the right comment to the right person.

Yesterday had almost erupted into a physical altercation. Thank goodness for Tony and Gibbs arriving when they had. Gibbs had been none too gentle with yanking Kate back towards his desk while Tony literally dragged Ziva off to the gym. Kate's ears were still ringing from Gibbs' harangue.

In a moment of sheer desperation, Kate pulled out her cell phone. She dialled the first number that popped into her head.

_"Derek Wilchowy."_

"Derek, it's Kate Todd," she said quickly, before she lost her nerve and became 'good girl' again. "I have a favour to ask."

_"Anything for my favourite special agent."_

"I need you to get Ziva David out of here. I can't take this, Derek, she's _everywhere_! And this is _my _team, not hers."

_"I'll see what I can do, Kate. It might take a while."_

* * *

"Kate! Ziva!" Gibbs snapped. "So help me, _God_, I will lock you both in a broom closet!" He got up from his desk and caught each of his offending agents by the hair on the back of her head.

"Separate ones, I hope, boss, it doesn't bode well for international relations if NCIS kills another Mossad officer," Tony spoke up. "Or if Mossad kills another NCIS."

"Who was the first?" Kate asked, just as Gibbs said to Tony,

"And if _you_ don't shut up about now, DiNozzo, I will throw you in with Ziva and every weapon she possesses."

"Yessir."

"Now, McGee, DiNozzo, go talk to the victim's family," Gibbs said. "Ziva, Kate, I want you two to go back to the scene and comb it over again for that missing tag."

"But Gibbs!" both Kate and Ziva exclaimed in unison.

"We spent over three hours already looking for that tag!" Kate complained.

"You would honestly make us go_ back_?" Ziva asked.

"Do I uptalk?" Gibbs asked irritably. "I know you both understand the concept of _direct order_."

* * *

"I'll drive," Kate said tersely as she grabbed the keys to the sedan before Ziva could.

"I drive, it is part of the agreement," Ziva replied, yanking the keys from Kate.

"Like I get the parking space?"

"And I get the desk?"

"Give me those fricking keys, you nut job," Kate snapped.

* * *

It took them five hours to finally locate the missing dogtag and return to NCIS. When they had, Ziva literally froze in her spot upon exiting the elevator.

"What?" Kate asked in exasperation.

The older Middle Eastern man approached the two women. He greeted Ziva in Hebrew and began to speak with her, letting Kate sidle past him to rejoin her old teammates. "Who's he?"

"Officer Michael Bashan," Director Shepard said. "Director of Foreign Operations in North America." She sighed. "Apparently Ziva's work visa only extended until a qualified American could be found to replace her."

"Meaning that you took her job, Agent Todd," Gibbs said tersely.

* * *

"I am _not_ going back to Tel Aviv!" Ziva exclaimed in a quieter voice than she would've liked. "Michael, I am begging you, do not make me go back."

"And what do you suggest I do, Ziva?" Michael demanded. "If you had given me notice, I could have found another posting for you. I could have arranged for another NCIS placement. But you worked despite your visa's expiration for two months, Ziva – two months! Do you realize how much trouble you are in at Mossad now? The Americans have been screaming for my blood."

"I do not really care where, Michael, at this point," Ziva snapped. "So long as it is not Israel." She sighed and turned away, running her hand through her hair. "I may have… misled… some information on my report with Ari's death. Father promised me asylum if I remained out of Israel."

Michael sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I will see what I can do, Ziva, but I make no promises. If you do not hear from me in the next 24 hours, I want you on the next plane to Mossad. Is this order understood, Officer David?"

Ziva nodded slightly.

"That means you are seated on the plane, flying to Tel Aviv. Once arrived in Tel Aviv, you are going to headquarters to report for duty. At no point in the next 48 hours are you to go incommunicado, out of surveillance or anywhere near NCIS." He jabbed a finger at the elevator. "Out. Now."

Kate actually got a shudder of fear running through her body as Ziva turned back at the door to the elevator and her gaze zeroed right in on Kate. There was hatred in those dark eyes.

"DiNozzo, go after her," Gibbs ordered, shoving Tony forward as Officer Bashan and Ziva entered the elevator.

"Me, boss, why – Going!" Tony yelped as Gibbs' hand went swiping at the back of his head. Taking off like a shot, he slipped inside just as the doors closed.

"All right," Gibbs snapped. "Back to work! Dirtbags do _not_ arrest themselves just because _somebody_ blew the whistle on Ziva!" As McGee and Kate both scattered to their desks, Gibbs caught Kate's arm. "I hope you're happy, Agent Todd. You've sent her to her death," he said quietly.

* * *

"I'll drive you home," Tony said, sticking his hands in his pockets uneasily as Officer Bashan evil-eyed him.

"Thank you," she replied softly.

The elevator stopped at ground level, and Officer Bashan said something sharply one last time to Ziva before he disembarked and stalked off towards the visitors' parking lot.

Ziva looked at Tony. "Why are you here?" she asked. He shrugged.

"Gibbs told me to tail you."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, gesturing for him to follow her. "So we will end the same way we began, yes?"

"Actually, we began upstairs, when you first arrived," Tony said, sliding into the driver's seat of the little red car. "You asked if I was having phone sex."

"Ah, yes, that is right," she said with a smile, reluctantly handing over the keys. "Do not scratch my baby."

* * *

Gibbs knew. She didn't know how, she didn't know why, but he knew she had called in a favour.

She hadn't meant to get her deported! She had just wanted her transferred. Transferred, that's all. It wasn't her fault Ziva had chosen to work illegally for two months – Ziva had to have known the conditions of her visa, she did that purposely! Why was _she_ being made the bad guy?

And what was Gibbs talking about, sending her to her death? She wasn't a fugitive, a refugee or a target. Kate had checked all of that. Ziva was nothing but a Mossad control officer banished to a liaison position for losing control of her charge. A punitive position, and surely a source of great frustration. She ought to have been _thanking_ Kate on bended knee – now she could return to her own country and do what she was trained to do!

Angrily, Kate slammed her fist into the keyboard, making multiple warning signals come flashing onto the screen in strange characters. They _all_ ought to have been thanking her – she had seen how Tony was so distracted, how McGee was mercilessly tormented, how clipped and terse Gibbs' orders had been. She had done them all a favour by taking Ziva away!

* * *

Gibbs turned away as he heard Kate's howl of frustration – she must have discovered that Ziva's computer was all in Hebrew, set long ago as a preventative measure against Tony interloping. "Fornell, I need you to pull a few strings at the Hoover."

_"What kind of strings, Gibbs?" _Fornell asked.

"Ziva's got 12 hours to find another position in the States to avoid being deported to Israel," Gibbs said. "She can't go back, Fornell, Mossad'll kill her. She was the one who killed Haswari, not me."

There was shocked silence at the other end for a moment. _"I'll see what I can find, Gibbs. Is there restrictions?"_

"Just not Israel."

_"Who do I contact?"_

"Officer Michael Bashan. Director of Foreign Operations in North America. Thanks, Fornell."

_"Don't thank me yet, Gibbs."_

* * *

Ziva moaned as she was rudely awakened by the phone's insistent ring.

"Gawd, why does your phone have to be so loud…" came Tony's grumble from beside her.

She managed to grab the receiver and pull it towards her ear. "David."

_"Ziva, you have friends in high places," _Michael said. _"I've found you something."_

Ziva hung up only minutes later, yawning as she tried to pull the covers over her head. Possibly one of the worst positions she could have ever asked for, but she supposed that it was Michael's way of reprimanding her without signing her death certificate.

"No, go away…" she groaned when she felt his breath tickling her skin. Bad enough that she had lost control last night, in her panic and her fright and her frustration. Bad enough that one drink had led to another, and that one to a third, until she had woken up nursing one hell of a hangover.

He was supposed to have left long ago, just like every other man she had ever taken into her bed. They never stayed, that would imply a second night. A week. A month. A year. A lifetime. He wasn't supposed to stay. The only lover she had ever permitted into her bed on a regular basis, her father had had killed.

"So?" he persisted groggily, the stale taste of his own drinking heavy in his mouth as he managed to target her lips. "Are you staying or are you leaving?"

"Staying here," she said, pulling away even as her traitorous body started to react to his proximity. "Leaving NCIS. Tony, stop."

"C'mon, Ziiiiva…" he pleaded blearily, a slight smirk crossing his face when he recognized the way she unconsciously curved her body to meet him. "I'm not leaving you alone, you know, now that rule number twelve no longer applies," he added, sliding over her body, growing slippery with sweat once more as he slowly began again.

Now that they were both sober and in no danger of being separated, they would enjoy every minute of their newfound freedom.


	4. Coming To An Understanding

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of NCIS.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Coming To An Understanding**

Tony bit back a grumbled curse and shielded his sensitive eyes from the sunlight peeking in through the curtains of Ziva's apartment. He could hear the shower running in her bathroom. "Ugh, I fricking hate Tuesdays… worse than fricking Mondays…" he groaned, burying his head under a pillow. "Fricking hangovers…"

There was a knock at the front door. The shower stopped, the bathroom door opened and the sound of Ziva's light step headed towards the front door. A brief, low conversation followed and then the door closed again.

"Tony, get up," she ordered quietly, peeling the pillow from his grip. "I need to leave, and so do you."

Blearily, Tony squinted at her. "Where are _you_ going?" he mumbled, sitting up unsteadily. "Dressed like the fricking mafia…"

Indeed, Ziva had her black suit set on, her long curls pulled back into a conservative knot. "Get up," she sighed. "It happens to be the dress protocol at my new position." Her tone sounded less than thrilled.

"Who are you working with, the Feebees?" Tony asked groggily as he yanked his clothes on reluctantly.

* * *

"Don't you look like you drowned yourself in a keg of beer, Tony," Kate greeted cheerfully from her desk as Tony managed to drag himself into NCIS and to his own desk. "Frat brothers party?"

"Not exactly," Tony replied tersely, yanking open his open-cases drawer and pulling out a folder just as McGee dashed in right before Gibbs came storming.

"We hear anything on Ziva?" he asked, directing the question to Tony.

Tony nodded with a slight moan as he rubbed his forehead again. "Found another placement in Washington. FBI."

"Good," Gibbs said in satisfaction, then stopped in front of Tony's desk and lightly slapped the back of his head. "And if you ever show up here this hung-over again, DiNozzo…"

"Won't happen again, boss," Tony mumbled.

* * *

Kate could've screamed in frustration by the end of the first Ziva-free month. Even absent in body, the woman was _still_ everywhere. Her computer was still in Hebrew, the boys all kept calling her "Ziva" and when they didn't call her Ziva, they definitely weren't calling her Kate.

Was she destined to be despised for the rest of her life for this?

"So we'll meet at the Hawk at 8?" Abby was asking Tony and McGee as everybody prepared to leave for the day.

"Yeah, 8 sounds good," Tony said. "Ziva gets out of Fedsworld at 7:30. Trust me, she'll be ready for a drink or two or ten."

"Oh, admit it, Tony, you are so stoked that rule number 12 doesn't apply anymore," Abby laughed.

"The two of you were starting to frustrate _me_," McGee added with a grin.

"More information than I needed to know, probie," Tony said in mock horror, slapping the back of McGee's head.

"What's happening tonight?" Kate asked with a smile, hoping for an invitation as she joined them at the elevator.

"Oh, um…" they all began stammering. Finally, Abby plucked up enough courage to say,

"It's Ziva's birthday today. A few of us were going to meet her at the Hawk for some drinks to celebrate. We didn't think you'd want to come."

"It's sort of a 'team-only' engagement," McGee said without thinking. Then he winced once he realized what he'd said.

Kate flinched at the insinuation. "I get it," she said quietly. "I wrecked your team, I wrecked your lives. I should've stayed dead. I'm sorry."

"I-I-I-I-I didn't mean that _you_ aren't part of the… team…"

"Shut up, Timmy, before you dig yourself any deeper," Abby ordered, as Tony caught Kate's arm before she went storming into the elevator.

"Kate," he said, and she was so shocked at being called by her name that she stopped. "Listen, it's been difficult adjusting to this, and maybe we've given you a harder time than we should've. You're welcome to come if you want, just don't expect Ziva to treat you like her best friend."

* * *

Ziva hated her birthday. For more than one reason. The memories that haunted her dreams, the fact that she was hardly ever around to celebrate it and the fact that she didn't really have anyone to celebrate with.

The other things Ziva hated were lawyers and reporters. Especially federal ones. Working in the FBI's PR department (or the FKAD, as Tony insisted on calling it – Federal Kiss-Ass Department) was hell. She'd take a solo undercover op in the middle of a wartorn Arab country if it meant she didn't have to work here anymore.

So when Tony had shown up in front of the Hoover building in his Mustang at 7:30 precise, it had given her a glimmer of hope that maybe he would take her home and they could spend the night alone – the way Ziva preferred it lately.

"Hey, Ziva," he greeted, leaning over to kiss her lightly. "Ready to party?"

"That depends," she replied, returning the kiss. "Where's the party? Who's there?"

"Oh, it's a mobile party," Tony teased, shifting into drive. "Starts at the Hawk. McGee, Abby, possibly Lee and Palmer and Ducky, potentially Gibbs and the director if they got the message… maybe Kate…" He caught sight of her disappointed expression. "Not for long, Ziva, I promise. Just until McGee gets rip-roaring drunk and then we'll leave. Completely sober, because the party ends at my place."

* * *

They made quite the crowd in the middle of the low-key pub: Ziva still in her Fed suit with Tony's arm slung casually behind her across the back of the bench, Abby in her Super-Goth dress, Ducky with his bow-tie, Gibbs in sawdust-coated jeans, McGee in his turtleneck and jacket, the director in a surprisingly young-looking skirt and shirt, Palmer and Lee looking just a little too cozy for coworkers…

Kate watched from the second floor balcony. Much as she had been touched by Tony's somewhat-apology, she didn't feel like being in there tonight. Not when it was clear to her that they had all missed Ziva like crazy. Not when she could see Ziva begin to visibly relax, smiling and laughing, swatting at Tony's hands as he tried to undo the severe Fed knot that held her hair back.

Let them have their night as the old team. She would stay a little longer and then go home. Sighing, Kate finished off the last of her drink, and as she tilted her head back to catch the last few biting drops, she caught sight of a glimmer in the shadows. A glimmer which looked suspiciously like the barrel of a sniper rifle…

Aiming for somebody at the NCIS table.

* * *

Ziva saw her from the corner of her eyes, up on the second floor balcony. Hiding her turn to look by leaning back in the booth to undo her knot of hair.

She watched as Kate made desperate hand signals. _Sniper. East wing, 2__nd__ floor. Pointing at table. Need backup._

Silently, almost unnoticed, Ziva slid Tony's holstered gun off his belt and attached it to her own. Shifting her suit jacket over top of it, she carefully got out from the booth, made an excuse about the washroom and headed towards the staircase, still watching as Kate continued to signal her. _Two snipers. One following, one steady on table. Gun?_

Ziva nodded almost imperceptibly. "Did you see anything in more detail?" she asked quietly as she joined Kate. Kate shook her head.

"Happy birthday, by the way," Kate said dryly. "Let's just smite the bastards and go home. I'm buzzed."

"Wow, you really do not hold your alcohol," Ziva commented, spotting the one glass.

"No, I don't."

"I would not suggesting smiting anybody, Agent Todd," came a soft, accented voice. "Officer David. So you uncovered our little operation."

* * *

Yep, she definitely was drunk.

"Did I mention," Kate said in between gasping laughs as she leaned back against the wall, trying to fumble at the knots holding her wrists together behind her back, "that I was handpicked to protect the president of the United States of America? And I'm tied up and stuffed in a closet by a _kid_."

"Boy was probably an early Mossad recruit," Ziva sighed, working to untie her own binding. "Now would be a bad time to mention I am mildly claustrophobic."

"Yeah, a little bit," Kate agreed. "What the hell are Mossad snipers doing in Washington?"

"I do not know," Ziva replied. "Most likely carrying out a hit order."

"On who?"

"Most likely me."

"Why?"

"Because I have – what is the term you Americans use? – dissed off my father one too many times."

"Pissed off."

"Whatever." Ziva sighed and dropped the cords to the ground, rubbing her wrists briefly. "Stop fiddling, Kate, I will untie you."

"You know, they'll get over you," Kate commented in her alcohol-induced daze. "One day. It'll be 'Kate's desk' again. And I'll be Kate and not 'Zi-Kate'."

"I am sure," Ziva replied quietly, working at undoing the knots of Kate's cord. "It was 'Kate's desk' for months after I came to NCIS. I was 'Ka-Ziva' for quite a while."

"So who killed me, any way?" Kate asked, trying to pull her hands free too soon and succeeding only in tightening the knot Ziva had just loosened.

"Ari Haswari," Ziva said calmly, restarting at the knot again. "Stop it, Kate, I cannot get it undone if you keep moving. Sniper shot from sixty feet away on a terrorist cell bust."

"Hmm. Figures. That's what I get for not stabbing the bastard four years ago. So did Gibbs kill Haswari then?"

There was a slight uncomfortable pause that lasted just a beat too long before Ziva said, "Yes. Gibbs killed Ari." She dropped the cord to the ground. "Get up. I think the door is unlocked."

"What are you really doing here?" Kate asked with only the slightest slur as she struggled to right herself from her slouched position. "I don't get why you're still here. You could've gone back to Israel, back to Mossad. Why'd you stay?"

Ziva was silent for a while, carefully trying to jig the lock on the closet door open. "I like it here," she said finally.

"But it must frustrate you here," Kate persisted. "I mean, there's so many rules and can-dos and can't-dos and legalities."

"I was ready for some rules and some boundaries, Kate," Ziva said quietly. "Although if I see one more lawyer or news reporter tonight, I may snap and kill somebody." She succeeded in swinging the door open. "There. Can you walk?"

Kate got to her feet and whimpered slightly as pain shot through her left ankle. "I think so. I must've twisted my ankle when I landed."

"No, I think that was from trying to kick down the door without a direct line of contact," Ziva sighed, hauling Kate out and into a nearby chair. The balcony was almost deserted, and the couple that remained was too drunk to think anything of two women emerging from a closet. "Where did you see the sniper?"

"Alcove directly across from us," Kate said, gratefully taking the chair. "Does this mean we're friends now?"

"It means we are not enemies."


	5. Life and Death

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of NCIS.

**

* * *

**

Chapter 4: Life and Death

Gibbs could tell his team had finally adjusted to their dynamics, when it became 'Kate's desk' and 'Kate's job' again. When the coffee had cream in it again. When lunch had tofu in it, and breakfast had ham in it. When he was more likely to find an upset agent in Abby's lab than in Ducky's autopsy room. When the stuff left lying around were sketch pencils and notepads, when there was scandalized shrieks of 'DiNozzo!' and not DiNozzo's yelps of surprise at 'stealth ninja moves'.

It had taken them the better part of six months since her return. And yet it still felt as though there was an enormous gap, something crucial missing. Maybe it was just the old fogey in him that wanted the familiar, wanted the routine he had lived for three years. He still missed Ziva.

Something had been bothering Kate for a few months. He had first noticed it when she spent her spare time at work searching databases, trying to find files of some kind.

"Kate?" he finally asked one day, as he was gathering up his coat and bag to leave for the night. "What are you looking for?"

Kate sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I don't know, Gibbs. I don't even know why I'm still looking."

"Go home, Kate," Gibbs said firmly, shutting off her lamp. "Go get some sleep, you look terrible."

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe I will."

"Don't maybe, Agent Todd. Do it. That's an order."

* * *

"Would you quit pacing around already?" Tony asked tiredly, stretching out on Ziva's couch lazily and turning on the TV. "God, I feel like I'm at the Hoover building just watching you. Oooh, _Magnum_. Come sit down, watch some Magnum. This is one of the best episodes, you know."

Ziva looked him in exasperation, and he leaned his head back against the arm of her couch.

"On second thought, change out of work clothes, let your hair down and maybe that'll clear it up," he said. "Come on, you work in FKAD, how bad could it have been?"

Ziva shook her head and sighed, heading back towards her bedroom. He didn't get it. He would never get it: just how much she had sacrificed for NCIS, what she had given up, had resorted to just to be here, with him. She had left behind her country, her home, her people, her friends. She had risked her father's wrath, she had given up the work she loved. She had put him at risk when she had revealed the truth to her father: that she was not his pawn. That she had betrayed him when she had killed her brother to save an outsider, an American.

Pulling off her blazer and blouse, Ziva took out the pins and elastics holding back her hair. Shaking out the curls, back to the freedom she preferred them in, she pulled out a tank top from her drawers and pulled it over her head, switching her dress pants for a pair of jeans.

She saw the laser through the corner of her eye, hovering at her heart. Gasping, she ducked just as the shot shattered her window, the bullet ripping through her shoulder instead of her heart. She cried out in pain instinctively, stumbling back to the bed as she tried to stop the bleeding. "Tony!"

"What the hell was – Ziva!" he exclaimed, stopping in the doorway.

"Murder the lights, Tony!" she gasped through gritted teeth. "Stay low."

"The expression is 'kill the lights', my poor misguided Israeli, but now's not the time," Tony said as he switched off the lights. "What the hell is going on, Ziva?" he demanded, sitting down next to her. "You've been shot."

"No, really?" she snapped irritably. "I had not noticed, Tony, thank you for sharing that information!"

"Okay, now _that_ was just bitchy. Come on, we gotta get you to a hospital."

"Stay low," Ziva said again, biting back a gasp of pain as Tony pulled her to the ground by the arm. "They may have night vision scopes."

"Why is a sniper shooting into your bedroom, Ziva?"

"I will explain later, Tony."

"Oh, you'd better believe it."

* * *

The next morning, Tony walked into NCIS, but instead of going into the bullpen, he went straight upstairs. "Director," he said, going into her office without announcement.

"Agent DiNozzo, you become more and more like Gibbs every day."

"Why the hell does Mossad have Ziva on their hit list?"

Jenny looked up. "I wouldn't know, Tony, you'd have to ask Mossad, but I doubt they'd tell you."

"I spent the night in Emergency stitching up her shoulder. I have to dig a Sierra .06 hollow point bullet out of Ziva's bedroom wall when I get off tonight. The only reason she went to Emergency and not to the Hoover building's morgue was because she spotted the laser before they shot and ducked."

"Tony, I wish I could help you, but I don't know anything about Mossad's hit list. Now I suggest you get back downstairs before Gibbs arrives."

* * *

"Whatcha doing?" Tony asked Kate, looking over the top of her computer screen.

"None of your business," Kate said quickly, changing screens.

"Is our good little girl Kate trying to hack into Mossad's computers?" Tony asked disbelievingly. "You should get Probie to do it. He's good at that sort of thing. Hey, McGoogle!"

"What, Tony?" McGee said peevishly.

"Hack into Mossad for Katie. Tell me why Ziva's on a hit list while you're there."

"Ziva's on a hit list?"

"Must be, her shoulder's nearly blown apart and there's a sniper bullet buried in her bedroom wall."

"A sniper bullet?" Kate asked in surprise.

"Is she okay?" McGee asked.

"Other than being stuck in a sling for the next two months, yeah, probie, she's fine. Royally riled that she's one-handed," Tony replied, a slight snicker escaping. "Me, personally? Loving it." He smirked at Kate. "Have to do everything for her. And I _do_ mean everything."

"DiNozzo, I don't need to hear about your sex life," Kate replied pointedly. "There's a thing called personal business, and that's part of it."

"All right, got in," McGee said quickly.

"Yeah, but I can't read that," Tony and Kate both protested.

"You told me to hack in, not translate. Get Abby to do that. I'm done."

"Wait a second," Kate said, hitting a few keys on her keyboard before typing in _ziva david _into what was probably a search engine. Hebrew characters replaced the Roman lettering. "Still have Hebrew on this damn thing," she explained.

The search took barely fifteen seconds before what looked like the officer dossier popped up. Multiple links ensued. The first one seemed to be a list of hits she'd done in her career, as each individual string of characters brought up a different dossier. The second link looked like a list of assignments, since each string of characters again brought up different dossiers, each marked with a different Israeli embassy's seal and the insignia of a different country's agency. Brazil, China, Ireland, Scotland, Denmark, South Africa, Switzerland, Austria, England, Canada, France, Germany, Australia, Argentina, Italy, Japan, South Korea, Netherlands, New Zealand, Poland, Portugal, Kenya, Mexico, Singapore, Spain, Sweden... the last dossier had the Washington embassy and the NCIS insignia on it, quickly followed by the FBI insignia.

"Wow," Kate said in surprise. "She's a well-travelled girl."

"This one's probably what we're looking for," McGee said, pointing to the large red lettering beneath it. Kate moved her mouse and clicked it.

Not only Ziva's photo popped up in the dossier that followed the link. Tony's did too.

"Oh, God, _I'm_ on their hit list!" Tony exclaimed. "E-mail that to Abby and get it deciphered pronto. If I'm getting whacked by the Israelis, I want to damn well know why."

"Know what, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"Nothing, boss."

"Tony's on Mossad's hit list and he doesn't know why," Kate spoke up. "Probably guilty by association, Tony."

"What's this?" Gibbs asked with a frown as he looked over Tony's shoulder.

"A sniper fired into Ziva's apartment last night, boss," Tony explained quietly. Gibbs' face darkened, and their boss pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial.

"Fornell, get your damn ass down here now! Bring Ziva with you!"

* * *

"They've been in that elevator a long time," McGee commented quietly to his colleagues. Ziva, her arm supported by a sling, was watching out the window of NCIS, having been ordered to stay right where she was by Fornell. "You think it's a fight to the death?"

"Not funny under the circumstances, McGee," Tony muttered, eyes locked on Ziva's face.

"Point taken."

* * *

"Jethro, my bosses are not happy with me," Fornell hissed. "I convinced them to take Officer David as a liaison, and now she's a security risk! They're a day away from booting her ass back to Israel!"

"Is this the face of somebody who cares, Tobias?" Gibbs snapped. "Leave Ziva here, we'll keep her in protective custody with DiNozzo."

"Works for the Hoover building," Fornell shrugged. "She's your problem, Jethro."

"Ziva was never my _problem_, Tobias," Gibbs said coldly. The two men walked out of the elevator just as the glass of the window shattered into tiny shards, Ziva dropping to the ground almost in slow motion.

* * *

"Ziva!" everybody yelled, Tony reaching the fallen Israeli first.

The bullet had pierced dangerously close to her heart this time, ripping through the sling with deadly precision.

Ziva was fading fast, cursing in slurred Hebrew. Tony pressed down on her chest wound, talking rapidly to her.

"Obviously weren't trained very well," he said with a wry smile. "That's the second time they've missed."

"Corpsmen are on their way," Kate reported, kneeling down next to Tony. "You got a thing for snipers or something, David?"

"More like snipers have a thing for me, yes?" Ziva replied thickly.

* * *

She fell unconscious not long after the corpsmen had whisked her off to Bethesda, Tony bulldogging his way onto the ambulance with the rest of the team racing behind the ambulance.


End file.
